by Dakota Trace
“Sam.”
Her sister giggled, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “I see you do still recognize me.”
“Of course, I do.” Alyce hung up her jacket in the hall closet. “You’re my sister for heaven’s sake.”
“Well, I was wondering. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you sent we went to that club a few months back.”
Alyce stiffened at the reminder. Even though the incident had brought Kaleb into her life, she still wasn’t over her anger at her sister.
“Well, I've been busy.” She shut the closet door. “School, work, Anissa. You know how it goes.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Always the busy beaver. By the way how is that job of yours going? Still playing fetch for that professor? One would think you'd be sick of academia by now. I know I couldn’t wait to kick the school thing once I graduated.”
“Now, Sammie, higher education is very important.” George Hanklin appeared behind his wife, dressed much like a well to do husband from the fifties, his slacks creased and his oxford shirt neatly tucked in. Even his dark but silvering at the temples hair looked as if he’d just stepped out of a barber’s shop. “Your sister ought to be commended for wanting to better her and little Anissa's situation.”
“Oh, Georgie, you always say that.” Sam patted his cheek. “But we both know that my sister wouldn't have half the issues she has if she would’ve remarried after her divorce.”
Alyce wanted to roll her eyes. For whatever reason, Sam was like a broken record when it came to Alyce’s love life, or lack of what she saw as a good strong man to take of Alyce and Anissa. “Like I’ve said before, Sis, I don’t need a man to take care of me or Anissa. Maybe eventually you and Mom will get it.” Although it was nice to lean on Kaleb last night. “Speaking of Mom, have you seen her?”
Sam gave her a disgruntled look. “Last I saw, she was in the kitchen berating the chef for using the china or something.”
Alyce, again, refrained from rolling her eyes. “Well, Mom always expects a perfectly set table. I’ll see if I can go save Michel from her wrath.” As she passed the hall mirror, she caught a glimpse of Sam’s expression. From the way that her sister’s lips were pursed, she wasn’t happy that Alyce was choosing the company of a cook over her. Too damned bad. I happen to like Michel. The grandfatherly French cook had been the person she’d turned to when Anissa had been colicky as a babe, and he had taught Alyce more than one budget-stretching casserole dish once she’d moved out of the opulent home with its executive chef she’d shared with her ex.
* * * *
“So peanut, I heard that you went on an outing yesterday?” Marcus O’Connell asked his granddaughter while spooning out a healthy serving of his favorite quiche.
“Oh, yes, Poppa.” Anissa nodded as she munched on the waffle in front of her. “Momma and I went over to Mr. Kaleb’s house. My friend, Matt, was there and we got to swim in Mr. Kaleb’s pool. He taught me this really cool game.”
“Did he?” Marcus seemed amused as he listened to his granddaughter’s animated chatter about fetching a coin from the bottom of the pool. Alyce suppressed a grin. It always tickled her, watching her dad and daughter together.
Across the table, Sam raised an eye brow. “Would this be the same Mr. Kaleb, Georgie and I saw leaving your house this morning as we drove in?”
On the other side of Sam, her mother’s head swung around so quick, Alyce was surprised that the poor woman hadn’t given herself whiplash. It would’ve been comedic if it weren’t for the fact that once again her sister had put her on the spot. But before she could come up with a suitable reply – one which wouldn’t reveal the depth of their budding relationship, her daughter spilled the beans.
“Yep, Mr. Kaleb stopped by with coffee for Momma and a huge cinnamon roll for me.”
“Did he now?” Abagail’s tone was decidedly cool. “Are you sure, Anissa, that he stopped by this morning? Or did you wake up and he was there?”
Anissa shrugged. “I think this morning. He knocked on the front door before Momma was up. But he did come over last night. I heard him talking to Momma.”
Her mother gave her husband a smug look. “I told you I thought I saw lights last night, Marcus.”
“Abby…whether or not our daughter has a man over or not, is none of our business.” Her father scolded. “I told you last night to leave well enough alone. She’s forty-one, not fifteen.”
“But she has an impressionable twelve year old under her roof, Marcus! A mother needs to put the needs of her child first! And having a strange man over isn’t…”
Anger at the implication that had just spewed from her mother’s mouth, churned in Alyce’s stomach, making Michel’s French toast turn to sawdust in her mouth.
Enough of this!
“Whether or not I have a male friend over is my choice.” She shoved back from the table. “My obligation to justify my decisions to my parents ended the day I moved out.”
“May I remind you that you still live on our estate?” Her mother retorted.
“Abigail!” Marcus seemed horrified by his wife’s audacity.
“Well, it’s true. She doesn’t pay rent on that cottage, only utilities. And we watch Anissa for free. If she were a responsible adult, she would….”
“Mom, I think that’s enough...” Sam, for the first time since dropping the bombshell that had started the whole mess, looked worried.
As she should.
“Momma?” The uncertainty of her daughter’s voice as Anissa picked up on the tension around the table was the last straw. “Come along, Anissa, I think it’s time that we left, before I do or say something that I’ll regret.”
Her daughter looked mournfully down at her waffle, then sighed, but still got up, kissed her grandfather on the cheek and glared at my mom. “Love you, Poppa. And Nana you should be nicer to Momma, so I could finish my waffles.” Then she stomped down the hallway.
Well, there goes our Sunday ritual. Inwardly, Alyce cringed. If there was anything her daughter hated more than fighting, it was having her routine interrupted. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. Alyce immediately rejected the idea. If she was to teach her daughter self-worth, she had to quit letting her mom dictate to her how to live her life.
“Abigail!” Marcus gave his wife a thunderous look. “I can’t believe you caused this scene. When did you last take your pills. Or did you go off your meds again?”
Her mother looked shocked that her husband had dare question her motives. But unfortunately, it was a valid one. Abigail O’Connell had been diagnosed with bi-polarism back when it had been still called ‘manic depression’ and had been on and off medications for years.
“Nothing I said was a lie. Alyce would be lost without us and our generosity. If we didn’t let her stay at the cottage, where would she be? She has all those grandiose plans of what she’ll do when she gets her degree – but it’s been years since she started college. Even if she wanted to pay something, that interning job of hers doesn’t pay squat. She’s barely able to make the utilities on the cottage. She needs our support – and it doesn’t come without strings.”
Standing there, Alyce’s heart sank. Drugs or not, her mom had gone too far this time. Thank god her daughter had left the room, because nothing could stop the words that passed her lips. “Fuck you, Mom.” Her fingers clenched. “Consider this your thirty-day notice. We’ll vacate the cottage by the end of the month.”
Ignoring her father’s bellow of frustration and her sister’s half-hearted protest that she think about what she was doing, Alyce turned and stalked out of room. What had started out as a wonderful morning full of optimism had gone straight to hell in a handbasket. What the fuck was she going to do?
* * * *
Kaleb had just cracked open his paints, when he heard gravel crunching on his drive. Setting aside his brush, he rose and walked over to the window. Alyce’s sedan sat beside his SUV. While he hadn’t been expecting her, he wasn’t the slightest
bit annoyed that she showed up. Until she didn’t immediately exit the car. As seconds turned into minutes, his imagination began to think up reasons why she’d come. Reasons that had his blood boiling. Something must have happened at her mom’s. Maybe someone had seen him leave? From his vantage point, he couldn’t make out her expression. At least not until she finally exited the car and he caught a clear glimpse of her tear-streaked face. “What the hell?”
All thoughts of anger fled. His kitten was hurting. By the time she made it up his walk to knock on the front door, he was already opening it. Surprise, then leeriness crossed her expressive face.
“Kitten?” He brushed one thumb over her damp cheek. “What the hell happened? Where’s Anissa?” Immediate thoughts of Obed crossed his mind. “Your ex didn’t take her, did he?”
She bit her lower lip, then shook her head. “No, I asked a favor of Bella, and she took Anissa for the afternoon.” She looked ready to burst into tears. “Mom and I had another fight, Sir, and this time….” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Fuck…get your ass in here, sweetheart. You need to be held.” He gently tugged her into the house, shutting the door behind them. Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms, and carried her into the living room and to his big comfy recliner. It took less than thirty seconds for him to sit down, and even less for the threatening tears he’d seen in Alyce’s eyes start to fall. He gathered her closer, tucking her head under his chin while rubbing small circles on her back as he used his foot to start rocking them. “I’ve got you. Let it out. Then we’ll talk,” he whispered against the top of her head.
As if his soft words released the flood gates, the tears began to pour over her cheeks to wet the front of his shirt. He kept up the soft talk, waiting her out until she finally went limp against him and a soft hiccup escaped her. Using his instincts, he didn’t press, hoping that she would open up when she was ready. Something had obviously upset her to the point she’d found someone to keep an eye on her daughter, so she could come to him. Even though he hated the idea something bad happening to her, he was eternally grateful that she’d chosen to come to him. He continued to rock back and forth, savoring her light floral fragrance.
“I fucked up, Sir.” The words came out soft.
“Let me be the judge of that,” he whispered against her temple. “My subbie might make a mistake every once in a while, but she never really fucks up.”
Instead of the giggle he’d hoped to illicit with his words, she gave a shaky sigh. “Sam saw you leaving this morning.”
“And?” His heart jumped in his chest.
“Well, it caused a huge blow out between Mom and I. She kept going on and on about how I needed her to tell me how to raise Anissa, and how I was basically freeloading off her and Dad.” She rubbed her nose against his chest, before pulling back far enough to meet his gaze. “Dad thinks it’s because she quit taking her meds, but damnit I’m done with her. I can’t keep putting myself and Anissa through that.”
“Good. I’m glad you see that.” He pressed a kiss to her parted lips, savoring her softness under his. “So what’s the plan?” he asked softly, rubbing his nose against hers.
She seemed a bit distracted at first, but then a shuddering sound teased his ears, before she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know. I kinda told my mom to fuck off - that I would be out in thirty days.” A slight tremor racked her. It was almost as if she were waiting for him to do something. Explode? Berate her for her foolishness? Would never happen, but at least she hadn’t tried to leave his embrace. He smoothed his hand over her curls.
“Look at me, Alyce.” He kept his voice soft, but put just enough edge behind the words that she obeyed without question. Her emerald eyes opened to warily search his expression.
“Yes, Sir?”
“I’m proud that you finally stood your ground with your mom. Even though I know it puts you in an awkward position of trying to find a new home for you and Anissa.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. I’ll have to find something in my price range which isn’t much and…” a shuddering sigh escaped her. “Well, Napa is expensive, but I’m sure I can find something – eventually.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Surely I can find some landlord that will take pity on a forty-two year old college student with an autistic daughter on a limited budget.”
He cupped her face between his palms. “Of course you will.”
“You really think so?”
“Yep, and you’re looking at him.”
Surprise filled her eyes. “But…I couldn’t move in with you. We’ve…I mean…you and I…we’ve never even…ah hell….”
Humor tugged at his heart strings as she sputtered and tried to put her chaotic thoughts into words.
“We’ve never what?”
Her eyes squeezed shut. “We’ve never even made love…you just can’t ask me to move in with you when we’ve never slept together.”
“As much as I’d love to have you under foot, I know Anissa isn’t ready for the upheavel that living with Mr. Kaleb would cause.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “I have a small cabin – one that I use as an artist retreat about thirty minutes from here. While it’s not as large or ornate at your grandmother’s cottage…” he gave a laugh as he thought of the wood hewn floors, battered furniture and faded gingham curtains that covered the small windows. “….in fact your parents would call it quite rustic. But it’s yours for as long as you need it.”
“But…”
He could feel the returning tension in her body. “But what, kitten? Talk to me.”
“I’ll be in the same situation as before.” She held herself away from him. “Taking from you and not paying my way. Being a sponge!”
A low growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Don’t ever let me hear you call yourself that again, Alyce O’Connell.”
Her eyes widen. “Sir?”
It took some effort but he calmed himself. “We’ll work out an agreeable payment arrangement. One that we both can live with – because I won’t ever accuse you of living off my good will – do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He gathered her close once more, giving her a tight, but gentle hug. “Now that we got that settled….”
She hugged him back.
“If you’re concerned about taking advantage of a man you’ve never slept with…” he gave a playful grind of his hips against her ass, hoping to coax a giggle out of her. “We could always change that. I’m quite easy…especially since I agreed to delayed gratification with my submissive – rather taking matters into my own hands.”
The look of surprise mingled with excitement flitted across Alyce’s expressive face. Then a shy, almost hesitant hand sneaked over to a button on Kaleb’s shirt.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alyce slowly slipped the button free of its mooring, waiting to see how far Kaleb would allow her to go. Will he stop me, or take over? Nibbling on her lower lip, she moved down to the next button, tugging it free as well. When he still didn't protest, she reached for the third, this one just below his sternum. Under the fall of material, she caught a glimpse of tanned skin and just a sprinkling of blond hair. The mischievous part of her wanted to tug on it, just to see how her Sir would react to a bit of aggression.
Deciding to risk it, she slipped a hand inside the part she'd made, savoring the warmth of his bare skin against her palm. She shyly peaked up from under her lashes to judge his reaction, only to find herself caught in the sheer need stamped all over his face. Her breath caught in her throat. He wanted her that badly? Under her ass, she could feel the length of his erection. It wasn't the first time she'd ever felt it, but now they were alone, with no demands other than the ones they placed on one another. But if they became intimate tonight would it be as lovers or a total power exchange between a dominant and his submissive? The only way she would know is if she asked, but did she dare?
“Sir?”
“Yeah?” His response
came out as a rough growl.
She chewed on her lip, not certain how to ask without offending him. Because while part of her longed to experience what submission felt like at its fullest, another part - the wary part that had failed time and time again with her ex - was scared that she would freeze in his arms. Or worse - come without his permission.
“Talk to me, kitten.” He lightly stroked a finger down her neck and across her collarbone. “If you're not ready to make love, there are other ways that we can enjoy one another.”
She shivered as skitters of desire plucked at her already tense nerves. His words tempted her. “So you would let me explore, Sir?”
“Of course, I would. If that's what you wanted.” Two of his fingers drifted across the swell of her breast toward the nipple that was straining against the bra she wore. She gave an involuntary moan and arched toward his wandering digits. “But something tells me, that won't be enough for my little sub tonight.” He pulled her hand free of his shirt. “But I'm not about to take you to my bed, unless it's because you want to be there.” He gently set her on her feet. “So decide. Do we make a trip to my play room to fool around a bit, or do we go to my bedroom?”
Surprise flooded her. He was letting her make the choice? “I get to choose?”
“If you decide to do this, it will be the last decision you'll get to make tonight unless you safeword.”
She swallowed hard, a cool sweat breaking out over her body. It was decision time. Either she laid her cards on the table, or walked away. And despite her fear of failing, she didn't think she could walk away from this man. Not this time. “If we go to your bedroom, will we be making love, Sir?”
His nails dug into the upholstery on the arms of the recliner. “Making love or fucking is just a matter of semantics, Alyce. If you're asking if I can be gentle? Yes, if that's what you need. But if you give me the slightest hint that you want more - a rougher, deeper rhythm? Then I'll fuck you through the mattress.” His chest heaved, then fell. “Dear God, I want to do that until you're screaming my name and soaking my sheets with your release.”